


ask me no secrets (and i'll tell you no lies)

by ren_sauce



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But Mostly Hurt, Childhood Friends, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, based off a sort-of request from tumblr, davey's a stubborn bastard, i am putting a stop to it, i came for the height difference and stayed for the interactions, spot was a child pimp, there's severely little content in the spavid tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 18:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18707431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ren_sauce/pseuds/ren_sauce
Summary: “Wow.” Davey said slowly. “So we’re just gonna dive straight in then, huh?”“I’m just statin’ facts, Dave.” Spot shrugged. “I mean, that is what happened, right?”“No!” Davey snapped, his patience already wearing thin. “I was always going to come back-““You just weren’t gonna tell me about it.” Spot interrupted, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t try lyin’ t’ me, Dave. You know I can tell when you do.”





	ask me no secrets (and i'll tell you no lies)

He was still tall.

It was a stupid thing to notice, and it definitely shouldn’t have been the first thing Spot noticed, but he was. Frustratingly so. Davey had always been a lanky kid – ‘arms like an insect and legs like a stork, and you’s got the beak to go with it’ is what Spot would tell him with a smirk whenever they met at the pier, both breathless and perspiring from the walk over. Davey would always roll his eyes and shove his shoulder, saying he was just jealous because he was the size of a very stout, angry mouse. To be fair, he hadn’t been entirely wrong.

Spot had always held out hope that he’d hit a growth spurt around his teenage years, shoot up to an acceptable 5’7 and finally get his muscles in proportion to his body instead of just having ugly bulges everywhere, and yet, here he was at 5’4, faced with the still _annoyingly_ tall Davey Jacobs who clocked out at around six foot, if not taller.

Bastard.

“Davey.” He muttered, puffing himself up as best he could as he glared at the taller boy.

“Spot.” Davey replied, in that quiet, respectful tone he used whenever he spoke to adults. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, and Spot had to physically tense his body to keep the shiver running down his spine from being too noticeable. As he’d said, Davey had always been lanky and long-limbed, towering over the rest of his and Spots respective classmates – but now he was _tall_ , and yes, there was a big difference. Lanky was how you’d describe some ungracefully thin inhaler-kid with a peanut allergy on a playground, complete with knobby knees and brittle joints, shy and awkward but unable to hide away due to their baby giraffe-esque size and stature. Tall was how you described someone attractive. Lean, slim. Someone who had grown into their body, who’d finally put some meat on their bones but not enough to stop being labelled as slender. Someone refined and svelte, their button down shirt clinging to their body perfectly, their glasses framing their face in a way that highlighted their cheekbones and-

Well. Maybe that was just how he thought of Davey in general.

“You’re back.” Spot said coolly, keeping his face neutral despite the overwhelming urge to either soak Davey in the face or to hug him close and not let go.

“Yeah.” Davey nodded. “Got back this weekend. Saturday.”

Three days ago. He still had Spots number. He knew Spots address. He could’ve called.

Spot grit his teeth. He had no idea why he’d ever thought Davey would try to contact him after he came back.

“Funny.” He muttered, feeling that familiar ugly feeling welling in his stomach. “Figured you’d left this city in your dust. But hey, maybe that was just me.”

Davey visibly recoiled, his glasses slipping down slightly on the bridge of his nose. Spot wanted to lean forward and push them back, maybe lean in and push a little more and-

 _Nope_.

“Wow.” Davey said slowly. “So we’re just gonna dive straight in then, huh?”

“I’m just statin’ facts, Dave.” Spot shrugged. “I mean, that _is_ what happened, right?”

“No!” Davey snapped, his patience already wearing thin. “I was always going to come back-“

“You just weren’t gonna tell me about it.” Spot interrupted, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t try lyin’ t’ me, Dave. You know I can tell when you do.”

Davey opened his mouth, blue fire flickering in his eyes, and Spot tensed, waiting for the fight. But then Davey sighed, his body slumping under what looked like months’ worth of stress as he ran a hand through his hair, tousling the black curls in a way that made Spot’s stomach twist painfully.

“I’m not having this conversation right now.” Davey said quietly, voice stiff and shaky, like it might break if he spoke any louder. “So unless there’s anything else you wanted to do other than start a fight with me, I’d like to go now.”

The fire in his eyes flickered away, its ash leaving dark circles under Davey’s eyes. He just didn’t look tired – he looked exhausted. How Spot hadn’t noticed it earlier, he couldn’t tell. He fought a sigh. Davey had always worked himself too hard, no matter how many times Spot had told him not to.

“Well?” Davey prompted. “Are you done?”

Spot gave him one last calculating glance before jerking his head at the coffee shop on the other side of the street.

“Wanna grab a cup?” He tried his best to make his voice sound as carefree as possible. “I’m buyin’.”

Davey blinked rapidly, as if trying to make sure this wasn’t some kind of hallucination he’d dreamed up (though given his sleep deprived state, it wouldn’t be that big of a stretch).

“I...” He said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Spot cautiously. “Do _not_ understand you. Like. At all.”

Spot fought the urge to wink, and settled for a quick smirk.

“That’s the way I like it, Jacobs.”

oOo

“So how’s Les?”

“Jesus!” Davey cried, leaping about five feet in the air before spinning around to jab a finger into Spot’s chest. “Do _not_ do that!”

“A’right, jeez, fine!” Spot huffed, throwing up his hands. “God, if you really didn’t want me to ask, just say so!”

“No-!” Davey ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Why do I always want to yell at you whenever I see you?”

He was saying it more to himself than Spot.

“Just one o’ my many endearin’ traits, Jacobs.” Spot scowled. “If you don’t wanna talk, then don’t fuckin’ talk. I ain’t gonna cry if ya leave.”

Well. Not this time, at least. But no one needed to know about that.

“No, I wasn’t-“ Davey sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to yell at you.”

“Good.” Spot shrugged. “Because I don’t wanna yell at you neither.”

Davey rose an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

Spot refused to feel hurt. He rolled his eyes and shoved Davey’s shoulder lightly.

“Course not, _idiot._ ” He muttered, not meeting Davey’s eyes. “That’s the last thing I want.”

Davey scoffed quietly. “You sure have a weird way of showing it.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Dave.” Spot huffed, scowling at the floor. “I am _not_ the reason this is happenin’. Yeah, maybe I fucked some stuff up and said some dumb shit, but if you think you can pin all the blame on me and let yourself get off scott-free, then you’re wrong.”

Davey paused, looking down at Spot with that _look_ in his eyes that he’d get whenever he didn’t know something. Spot knew how much Davey hated not knowing.

“I...” He said slowly. “I _never_ said that, Spot.”

He wasn’t trying to accuse. He wasn’t trying to shift blame or defend himself. He was being genuine, and Spot didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with that.

Spot sighed, scuffing the wooden floor with his foot.

“I don’t wanna hate you.” He muttered. “And I don’t want to fight.”

“Me neither.” Davey said quietly. “I just don’t know what you want from me, here.”

“I could tell you.” Spot said, finally lifting his gaze to meet Davey’s eyes. “But I think its kind of late for that now.”

He wasn’t expecting the genuine sadness that flooded Davey’s features once he said that. At this point, he didn’t know what to expect with Davey anymore.

They stood there in silence for a moment, both wanting to break the silence but neither quite knowing how to. The pier wasn’t as crowded as it had been the evening Spot had first confronted Davey – it was quieter now, and Spot hated it. Because now he had no choice but to focus on Davey. To look at the bags under his eyes and his tense shoulders and the way he tilted his head down ever so slightly, like he was trying to close in on himself as much as possible. Spot couldn’t help the tugging feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t help wanting to take care of him.

After a moment, Davey blinked, sniffing the air lightly.

“You smell that?” He asked tentatively, like he was unsure whether he was even allowed to ask a simple question.

“What, the East River?”

“No, idiot.” Davey rolled his eyes in such a painfully fond manner. “Hotdogs.”

“Really?” Spot frowned, breathing through his nose slowly. “I just smell the East River.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re here all the time, you’re practically desensitized to any other smells now.” Davey scoffed, and it felt so normal, so carefree, so how it used to be before-

“That hotdog truck.” Davey said carefully. “The one we used to go to whenever we came down here. Is that still there?”

“Think so.” Spot shrugged. “Haven’t really been lately.”

Davey nodded. He didn’t ask for an explanation. Spot didn’t give one.

“You wanna go grab one?”

“Weren’t you just yellin’ at me a couple days ago for wantin’ to get coffee after we fought?”

“We weren’t fighting.” Davey said quickly. “We weren’t fighting then and we aren’t now. We’re just... In disagreement.”

Spot rose an eyebrow. “And you think hotdogs will change that?”

Davey flushed, turning his head and clearing his throat awkwardly. “Maybe.”

Spot leaned back and frowned, fixing Davey with a Hard Stare. He wasn’t upset or anything – far from it, actually. He just enjoyed watching Davey stew for a moment. Maybe that was an unhealthy way of dealing with things. Maybe Spot didn’t give a shit.

“Sure.” He said finally. “Let’s get hotdogs.”

Davey breathed a sigh of relief.

“You know I hate it when you do that.”

“S’what makes it funny.”

oOo

“I feel bad getting hotdogs without Les.” Davey sighed as he bit into his hotdog. “It feels... Wrong.”

“Wild son of a gun sure loved hotdogs.” Spot shrugged. Eating hotdogs was just another thing he and Davey did differently – Davey took small bites, taking his time to chew and swallow, never speaking with his mouth full. Spot ate like a wild ravenous animal.

“Ew.” Davey grimaced as Spot ripped his hotdog apart with his teeth.

“The meme or my eating habits?”

“Both.”

They slipped into silence. It was comfortable, kind of. They were both tense, and still a little unsure of how to exist around each other again, but... It was still nice. Spot had forgotten how much he could enjoy just being around Davey. People like Jack and Race... They were fine to be around (not that _anyone_ had to know Spot thought that) but they could just get so overbearing sometimes. Spot liked his space. He liked being able to breathe. Davey let him have that.

“Can I ask you something?” Spot said quietly.

Davey hummed around a bite of hotdog. Spot took it as a yes.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

Davey paused. Spot watched as tension filled his shoulders. He chewed his hotdog slowly, slower than he had been before. He was trying to buy time. Trying to think about his answer. Spot didn’t want him to think. He wanted him to _tell_. He didn’t want some carefully crafted excuse, he wanted the _truth_ , and if Davey didn’t give it to him then-

Well.

Davey swallowed his hotdog, choking ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, not meeting Spots gaze. “I didn’t mean to upset you so much-“

“I’m not asking for an apology, Jacobs.” Spot said, voice tight.

“My parents didn’t want me to see you.” Davey said carefully. “You know that.”

“You could’ve said goodbye.” Spot growled. “You had my number, you could’ve texted me. You could’ve sent a letter from your fancy fucking _boarding school_ or whatever-“

“I couldn’t have and you know it-“

“Stop tellin’ me what I know!” Spot snapped. “I know what I know!”

“And what’s that?” Davey asked coolly, voice careful and precise, the way it was when he was picking a fight and looking for the best way to tear his opponent apart.

“I know,” Spot growled. “That you were my friend. My _best. Friend_. I know that friends don’t leave without sayin’ goodbye. And I know that friends don’t turn up four years later out of the blue and act like they don’t even owe me a fuckin’ explanation for why they left.”

“Stop doing that.” Davey spat. “Stop playing the victim. We weren’t best friends, you made that pretty goddamn clear.”

“Jesus _Christ_ , Dave-!”

“No, listen!” Davey snapped, rising from his seat on the bench. “Do you have-“ He breathed heavily through his nose, running a hand through his hair. “Do you have _any_ idea, how hard it was for me to come down here after school every day, and be with you, and get hotdogs and hang out and _talk_ , and then whenever your _real_ friends showed up, you acted like you didn’t even know me?”

Spot practically flinched away from him, anger and hurt flooding his features.

“That is _not_ what I was-“

“Oh for fucks sake, Spot, I’m not an idiot!” Davey snapped. “Maybe I’m not from the streets like you are, maybe I don’t know how to put an arm back in its socket or set a broken nose or whatever, but I know when someone’s ashamed of me!”

Spot’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“Don’t you dare.” He growled, standing up from the bench to glare at Davey. “Don’t you _dare_ act like I was ashamed of you when you know damn well you were the one telling you parents you were at _debate practice_ or whatever the fuck whenever you came down here.”

“That is not the same thing-!“

“Oh, right, because I was such a _horrible_ influence and you couldn’t let your parents know you were hangin’ with a low-life like me!”

“They wanted what was best for me!” Davey cried. “They didn’t want me getting caught up in anything bad – I tried to tell them-!”

“Aw gee, I’m touched!” Spot barked. “Thank you so much for pleadin’ to your parents that the bad influence you hang out with is just a poor little orphan kid lookin’ for guidance!”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” Davey yelled. “You know I never thought of you that way, I _never_ treated you that way-“

“Well thank you for treating me like a normal human being! A plus work, Davey, you should get a medal!”

“Jesus Christ, it’s like you’re fourteen all over again!” Davey groaned, tugging his hair furiously. “When will you ever accept that I care about you?!”

Spot felt fire running through his veins.

“Gee, I dunno, Dave.” He snarled. “Maybe ‘cause if you did, you woulda said goodbye.”

And just like that, the fight in Davey’s eyes vanished. The tension in his body disappeared, leaving it to slump and sag, and his face fell slack, mouth slightly parted like he’d just been slapped. His eyes were the worst. They looked so empty. Defeated.

Dead.

“I-“ Davey began, his voice cracking painfully. “I’m not having this-“

“Not having this conversation right now, yeah, I get it.” Spot snarled low in his throat. “I know we’re not going to have this conversation, Dave. So why don’t you just tell me the truth for once and admit it?”

Davey opened his mouth, but only a small, broken, downright pitiful sound came out. He swallowed heavily, the ice in his eyes melting as tears caught in his eyelashes.

“I’m going home.” He said quietly. “Because – honestly, fuck you right now. But don’t you _ever_ act like I never cared about you, because you know I did. And you know that when I say that, it’s the truth.”

He walked away. Spot watched with a knot in his stomach as Davey’s shoulders rose and fell ever so slightly, his hand coming up to wipe his face furiously.

Spot felt sick.

_“Don’t cry.” Spot said quietly as he handed Davey a napkin from the hotdog stand. “They don’t deserve you cryin’ over ‘em.”_

_“I can’t help it.” Davey whimpered softly. “I – I’m trying so_ hard _, Spot, and they just won’t stop-“_

_“Hey.” Spot said gently, nudging Davey’s cheek to get him to look at him. “Look at me, c’mon. Y’know Medda? Owns the theatre? She always told me, no man’s worth your tears. These guys? They ain’t worth it, Davey.”_

_“I know that.” Davey sighed. “I do, it’s just – it’s so hard sometimes. I want to try and get over it but I just – I just_ can’t-“

_“Alright.” Spot said, rubbing Davey’s shoulder gently. “Then how about this? Anyone ever makes you cry again, I’ll soak ‘em.”_

_“Don’t do that.” Davey chuckled waterily. “I don’t want you getting in any more fights.”_

_“Mm, too bad.” Spot smirked. “’Cause they might not be worth your tears, Davey, but they’s sure as fuck worth my fists. No one makes Davey Jacobs cry on my watch.”_

Spot swallowed heavily, trying to fight the bile in his throat.

_“Anyone ever makes you cry again, I’ll soak ‘em.”_

He stumbled away from the hotdog stand and wandered into an alley laden with shattered beer bottles and used up needles.

_“No one makes Davey Jacobs cry on my watch.”_

His knuckles cracked as he slammed his fist against the wall.

oOo

“Get out.”

Sarah Jacobs had not changed a bit.

“I’m not crossing that bridge again until I see him.” Spot growled. If Sarah wanted to be stubborn, he could be stubborn right back.

“Then I guess you’re gonna be stuck here all night.” She said firmly, folding her arms. “I’m not letting you see him, Spot. I know you’re the one who’s got him in such a state now.”

“Yeah, well, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not doin’ so hot myself.” Spot glared, gesturing to the bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

“I’m not going to let you keep playing this pain game with him.” Sarah scowled at him, her big sister instincts making her all the more intimidating. “It’s not good for him – for either of you. If you keep going back and forth trying to see who’s the bigger victim, you’re going to wind up hating each other.”

“I don’t hate him!” Spot snapped, his chest aching when Sarah flinched, the same way Davey had the other day. He didn’t mean to keep losing his temper that way – it just kept happening and he couldn’t find a way to stop it.

He sighed, scuffing the floor with his boot.

“I don’t hate him.” He said quietly. “I’d _never_ hate him.”

Sarah’s eyes softened, if only slightly.

“Look.” She sighed. “I’m not saying Davey’s in the right, here. I’m not saying he didn’t make a dumb choice. But I do know that if you ever want to get past this, you both need to own up to the stupid things you did. _Both_ of you. If you think Davey owes you an explanation, you owe him one too.”

Spot winced, staring at the floor.

“I-“ He began, his voice cracking slightly. If Sarah noticed, she didn’t say anything about it. “I was never ashamed of him.”

“Don’t tell me that.” Sarah said carefully. “Wait here, and tell him yourself.”

She closed the door gently as she went inside. Spot felt himself shiver despite the summer sun. Maybe it wasn’t too late to run. Maybe he could just disappear again and then they wouldn’t have to talk and Davey could go to college and be clever like he was always supposed to be and Spot could just sit at the pier and reminisce about what a stupid piece of shit he was and-

“Spot.”

Davey would’ve sounded surprised, if his voice weren’t so numb.

“Hey.” Spot said quietly.

“Hey.” Davey’s voice was slow. Cautious. Spot couldn’t say he blamed him. “I don’t... Sarah said someone was waiting for me, I... Didn’t think it’d...”

“Yeah.” Spot smirked half-heartedly. “She’s, uh. She’s a rascal.”

“Rascal?” Davey snorted. “Jeez, when have you ever said – said...” His voice trailed off as he zoned in on Spots bloodied bandages. “Oh my god, Spot, your hand!”

“Hm?” Spot frowned, feigning ignorance. “Uh – yeah, busted it up a little. Not a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal!” Davey cried. “Fuck – did you use any antiseptic? If it gets infected it’s gonna get really bad and you’re gonna have to change the bandages sometime – shit, let me get our first aid kit-“

“Davey.” Spot said firmly, grabbing Davey’s shoulder before he could run back into the tenement. “I wanna talk.”

Davey wilted slightly under Spot’s grip.

“Spot, I don’t want to-“

“I know.” Spot nodded. “I want to talk to you.”

Davey sighed, shrugging Spot’s hand off of him. Spot tried to ignore the little pang in his chest.

“When you say talk,” He said quietly. “Do you mean talk-talk, or yell at me for an explanation talk?”

“Talk-talk.”

Davey shifted awkwardly where he stood, glancing inside the tenement.

“I don’t wanna talk here.”

“I know.” Spot nodded. “I was thinkin’ Medda’s?”

A small smile spread on Davey’s face.

“Medda’s sounds perfect.”

oOo

“You remember when we first met?” Spot asked, voice tight and awkward as they lingered in the alley behind Medda’s theatre.

Davey nodded slowly, looking at his feet.

“The Delancey brothers.” He said quietly. “They were following me and Les on the way home. Yelling stupid stuff, y’know how they are. But then Les tried to yell back and they tried to go for him.”

“Always admired that kid.” Spot smirked.

“Don’t encourage him.” Davey chuckled before continuing. “So I stepped in – I don’t know what I thought I’d be able to do, but I just lost it the moment I saw them grab Les. I think I punched one of them, actually.”

“You did. Oscar.” Spot felt a small, proud smile growing on his face. “He had a black eye for a week.”

“Fat lot of good it did.” Davey snorted. “They shoved me over the pier barrier.”

“And I heard Les screaming and had to dive in and save your ass.”

“You didn’t have to.” Davey shrugged. “You could’ve just walked away, but you didn’t.”

“Stop tryin’ to get me to think I’m a good person.” Spot sighed. “It’ll never work.”

“You _are_ a good person.” Davey insisted.

“Good person who made you cry.” Spot muttered bitterly. Davey opened his mouth but closed it, sighing quietly through his nose.

“That was stupid.” He muttered. “You shouldn’t be thinking about that.”

“I’m gonna think about you cryin’, Dave.” Spot grumbled stubbornly. “Specially if I’m the one who made you cry.”

Davey sighed again, glancing at the graffiti-stained walls.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Spot shrugged. “I mean – I do want an explanation. And an apology – a _real_ one. But I’ve been a dick, and – I dunno, two wrongs don’t make a right or whatever, so.”

He took a deep breath.

“I was never ashamed of you, Davey.” He said quietly. “I know it looked like I was but I wasn’t, I swear it. Those guys – they weren’t like you, Davey. I wasn’t friends with ‘em like I was with you. They were Brooklyn guys, guys I snatched wallets and pulled scams with. I didn’t want you gettin’ caught up in that shit.”

“What, so you were scared I’d get robbed by your Brooklyn buddies?”

“They weren’t buddies.” Spot said firmly. “And no. I mean, a little, but... Not entirely.”

Davey rose an eyebrow as Spot trailed off. “So?”

“So.” Spot huffed. “I didn’t want them knowin’ about you because you’re... Special. To me.”

Davey blinked, the tips of his ears glowing red. “Special?”

“’Course, _idiot_.” Spot growled, face flushing indignantly. “I already said you were my best friend. Those guys – like I said, they weren’t friends. Didn’t Kelly ever tell you about the whole King of Brooklyn thing?”

“Yeah.” Davey nodded slowly. “I thought it was a joke.”

“It ain’t.” Spot muttered. “I ran that fuckin’ city - least, I ran the kids, the ones left in the gutter like me. And they all knew it, Dave. Didn’t mean they liked it, though. They didn’t like that I owned the terf, they didn’t like that I got the biggest cut of our scams... They didn’t like _me_ , Dave.”

Davey frowned, his mouth parting slightly as his brain began to go into overdrive.

“They wanted you gone.” He said quietly. “But – where do I come into this?”

“Oh, Jesus _Christ_ -“ Spot growled. “You were my _friend_ , Davey. Do you have any idea what that means in a fuckin’ gang war?! You’re a _weakness_ -“

Davey recoiled. “Excuse me?!”

“And if they found out about you then I wouldn’t’ve been able to do anything!” Spot snapped, continuing on as if Davey hadn’t spoken. He needed him to understand. “So yeah, I ignored you, to keep you fuckin’ _safe_ , because I care about you! I was never ashamed of you, Davey, and you’d better fuckin’ know that!”

Davey paused, looking at Spot with something close to awe in his eyes. He cracked a small smile, the look in his eyes fond and caring.

“You swear too much when you’re mad.” He smiled gently. Spot frowned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You’re seriously gonna lecture me about my language after I said all that?”

Davey chuckled quietly, leaning against the wall and tugging on his stupid vest. Spot swallowed hard. Davey’s clothes all fit the same criteria of being embarrassingly nerdy, but they still made him look weirdly cute. Spot couldn’t explain it. He guessed it was just Davey.

“Jesus Christ.” Davey sighed, the smile falling from his face. “You were a gang leader. Do you know that? Are you actually aware of how insane that is? You were a fourteen year old gang leader. It’s been four years and I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

“It wasn't a _gang_ , it was a group of dumbass kids with nowhere to go."

"It was a gang, Spot."

Spot sighed. He hated it when Davey was right

"Yeah.” He nodded. “It was... It was somethin’.”

“It was crazy.” Davey corrected. “But... Thank you. For looking out for me.”

“Yeah, well.” Spot muttered, shoving Davey’s shoulder. “Someone was dead set on me bein’ a good person and I guess they rubbed off on me.”

Davey sighed, tapping his heel against the wall of Medda’s theatre.

“I’m sorry I never called.” He said quietly, avoiding Spot’s gaze. “Or gave you a proper goodbye. You were always there for me, even when I didn’t know it... You deserved that much.”

“Yeah, I did.” Spot muttered. “And I’m happy you’re apologizin’ for it and all, but you’re still not telling me _why_.”

Davey winced. “Spot, listen-“

“I know, I know.” Spot huffed. “You don’t wanna have the conversation or whatever, I get it, but...” He trailed off, tilting his head back in frustration.

“Look.” He said firmly. “I’m never going to hate you, okay? You know that. You’re my best friend, I’d never hate you. But if you can’t give me a proper explanation, especially after I just gave you one, then... I’m sorry, but I’m not crossin’ that bridge again.”

“So what?” Davey muttered. “I tell you everything or we’re not friends anymore?”

Spot fixed him with a hard look. “Yes.”

Davey paused for a moment before deflating against the wall, his hands curling into his shirt protectively.

“I wasn’t lying the first time.” He said quietly. “My parents really didn’t want me to see you. I-It’s nothing against you! It’s just – you know what our finances were like. There was no way I could get into a good college or highschool without a scholarship. They barely scraped together enough money to get me into a good boarding school, even with a scholarship and – Spot, I _needed_ to get into that school. There was no way I could get into college without getting close to perfect grades there and the tiniest little blip on my background check could’ve cost me the scholarship. It wasn’t you – they just wanted to keep me as far away from that stuff as possible. I know that if I’d convinced them a little harder or, or gotten them to meet you they would’ve let me-“

“So why didn’t you?” Spot pressed. He didn’t care if he was digging to hard or making Davey uncomfortable – he’d said his piece. Davey owed him his.

Davey sighed, tugging on his vest.

“I didn’t want to say goodbye,” He started slowly. “Because I knew that if I did... I’d do something really stupid.”

Spot frowned. “How stupid was it that it kept you from sayin’ goodbye?”

Davey faltered, his eyes flickering as he tried desperately to find the right words.

“You said-“ He started, voice hitching slightly. “You said I was special to you. Well – you’re special to me, too, Spot. But it’s not the same, it’s – it’s different, to how you think of me. And I knew that if – that if I said goodbye, if I had to have one big dramatic final farewell to you, I’d let it out and then you-“ He winced as his voice cracked painfully. His shoulders were tense, his voice coming out in quiet pants, and Spot felt his instincts yelling _help him, hold him, keep him safe_.

“You said you’d never hate me.” Davey said quietly, tears brimming in his eyes. “But I knew, I just – I _knew_ you would if I told you.”

“Told me what?” Spot asked, his voice almost pleading. “Davey, tell me _what?”_

Davey shook his head helplessly. “You’ll hate me.”

“I just said I’d never-“

“You _will!”_ Davey cried, tears spilling over his cheeks. “You’d’ve hated me then and you’ll hate me now, it’s just – it was easier to make you think I didn’t care because I _do_ , I care about you _so much_ and you _don’t_ , not the same way!”

Spot was about to open his mouth again, to ask Davey what was wrong, what was he hiding, when _oh_.

Davey thought he was special. In a different way. A way he couldn’t say out loud. A way that he thought Spot wouldn’t like.

 _Oh_.

“You hate me.” Davey whispered, his hands coming up to cover his face. “You know. You hate me. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to – I _never_ wanted you to-“

Spot grabbed his stupid vest and _pulled_.

It wasn’t exactly perfect – Davey was a good head taller than him, which meant Spot was forced to go on his tip-toes and Davey was awkwardly hunched over from Spot yanking him down by his vest, so the angle was kind of off and their noses bumped awkwardly, not to mention Davey’s tears were wetting Spot’s face.

But still. It was warm, and close, everything Spot had wanted for so many years, even if it was a little clumsy. It was them, and that was perfect enough for him.

Davey’s hands appeared on his shoulders, reluctantly pushing him away.

“I don’t-“ He whispered, voice catching in his throat. “I don’t want pity-“

“Do you seriously think I’d do somethin’ like this outta pity?” Spot muttered under his breath, voice ragged and hungry and _wanting_.

Davey swallowed and stared at his hands on Spot’s shoulders, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to put them there.

“You...” He said quietly. “You..?”

“Yeah.” Spot grinned. “Me.”

Davey shook his head. “I don’t – I don’t understand?”

“Newsflash, moron.” Spot scoffed, reaching up to lean his forehead against Davey’s. “If I spend four years thinkin’ about some loser who didn’t give me one fuckin’ goodbye before he got shipped off to a fancy-ass boardin’ school, I think it’s safe to say I like him.”

“Since...” Davey said slowly, his voice still coming back to him. “Since four years ago?”

“Since I fished your dumb ass outta the East River.” Spot snorted, winding his arms over Davey’s shoulders.

“Oh.” Davey said quietly, his hands slowly trailing from Spot’s shoulders to his waist. “Well, um. M-Me too?”

He rose an eyebrow as he settled his hands on Spot’s hips, quietly asking permission. Spot rolled his eyes and pulled him into another kiss.

It was definitely better than the first – Spot tilted their heads as best he could so that their noses weren’t bumping, and instead of awkwardly hunching himself over, Davey wound his arms around Spots waist and pulled him up, so Spot’s toes were just brushing to floor enough to push him up that extra inch. All the while, they still kept that same rush from the first kiss – that flurry of four years’ worth of emotions bleeding into the kiss as they held each other as tightly as possible, neither one wanting to let the other go for even a moment.

“Fuck.” Spot said quietly as he pulled away. “Shit. You gotta go to college and fuckin’ – background checks and-”

“Already been accepted.” Davey smiled at him fondly. “It’s close, too. I’m not leaving again.”

Spot felt a small shiver at the unspoken _you_. _I’m not leaving_ you _again._

“Already?” He smiled, pleasantly surprised. “That’s pretty quick.”

“I may have been valedictorian at my _fancy-ass boarding school_.” He grinned sheepishly in a poor imitation of Spot’s thick accent. “And besides, colleges love a good sob-story.”

“Davey Jacobs strikes again.” Spot smirked, planting another quick kiss on Davey’s lips. “Fuck, I’m gonna do that so much.”

“Please do.” Davey smiled, and Spot was tempted, _very_ tempted, to kiss every inch of his stupid face, when another thought came to mind.

“Um.” He cleared his throat, looking away. “Your parents...?”

“I’ll talk to them.” Davey said firmly. “And if they don’t like it, then fuck ‘em. I’m never leaving you again.”

“Never?” Spot smirked. “Be still, my beatin’ heart.”

“Shut up.” Davey scoffed, tilting Spot’s head up. “And kiss me.”

Spot leaned in slightly, thoroughly enjoying watching Davey stew.

“I will.” He whispered, grinning wickedly at Davey’s impatient whine. “If you stay.”

“’Course I will.” Davey smiled, leaning in to nuzzle him softly. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

Spot grinned, pulling him in for another deep kiss.

“Sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is vague and stupid and i'm not entirely happy with the ending but mleh


End file.
